


Repeat Offender

by OwlosaurusRex



Category: The Evil Within (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Prison, Joseph was married, M/M, Prison Sex, References Murder, References a lot of gritty stuff they're in prison, References to Addiction, References to Drugs, Violence, alternate title: Behind Bara, bisexuals everywhere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:19:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3892711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlosaurusRex/pseuds/OwlosaurusRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(A Prison au that was supposed to be a short one shot but now it's not.)</p><p>Ex-Prosecutor Joseph Oda is serving a life sentence for the untimely death of his wife's lover and spent his first three years in prison earning respect and security in the inmate community. All of that seems lost when Joseph is brutally attacked and finds himself in the middle of a brawl between an unknown attacker and a man he'd never seen before.<br/>Sebastian Castellanos is a weary widower serving a short sentence for drug related charges and is the only person who  helped Joseph in his time of need. Joseph develops a fascination with the surprisingly noble man and sees him as a valuable (and possibly his only) ally. He originally intends to keep Castellanos close for protection but as he gets to know the man behind the scars and rage, he wonders what he's really after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Repeat Offender

**Author's Note:**

> I've done very minimal research on prisons so this fic probably won't be all that accurate. We'll wing it and see how it goes.  
> I'll add additional tags as I go.

"Inmate 69142-099, Joseph Oda...I have to say, I didn't expect to see you on my roster this evening. You don't visit us here in the infirmary all that often." Joseph had difficulty focusing on the doctor's voice, her words muffled by the painful thrum of his pulse throbbing in his head. "And you aren't one to get yourself in such a mess--look straight ahead." The woman's voice had a mechanical quality to it and it usually held a lukewarm tone halfway between indifference and exasperation, though Joseph thought he could catch a hint of curiosity in it now, if he concentrated hard enough. The light flashed into each of his eyes made his head throb harder and he struggled not to blink.

"I wouldn't call this a _visit_ ," Joseph said and sighed once the doctor finished and handed him his glasses. It was amazing the lenses had held up during the brawl. "I like to think of visits as being optional and usually without stitches involved." The doctor huffed in what could have been a laugh as she scribbled something down and flipped through documents on her clipboard.

"Whatever you call it, it was surprising. How long have you been here now, and I haven't had to do more than prescribe the occasional antibiotic. It isn't like you to get involved in something like this." The doctored eyed him over the rims of her slim reading glasses and Joseph didn't quite care if that was concern on her face or just the usual perverse curiosity that the officials seemed to have with the inmates' behaviors.

"I wasn't "getting involved" in anything," he said but didn't bother explaining further. She didn't really care and if she did it would just be gossip fuel among the staff later and he didn't want that sort of attention. He had an image to uphold, after all.

The doctor shrugged and walked around the narrow bed where Joseph was sitting. He looked down at his bloody clothes and felt his head throb harder with the movement. His left sleeve was nearly ripped clean off and he was grateful to find he could move his arm now. Pulling one's arm back into place had turned out to be far more painful than he had expected and he wondered how long it would take for his shoulder to feel _right_ again.

"That's it, Oda. You got off lucky." Joseph looked up again and felt his patience dwindling at a rapid pace under the doctor’s apparent condescension. "Considering the state of the others involved, you didn't get much--not even a broken rib. Looks like you'll be heading back to your cell for now," the doctor said and Joseph was glad that she didn't feel the need to lecture him. "I'll warn you against sleeping, though. Your concussion wasn't too serious but better safe than sorry." She stepped over to a trash can and peeled off her bloodied gloves in favor of donning a fresh pair. "And careful with the stitches."

"Right." Joseph slid off the bed with care, taking the doctor's cleanup as an indicator that it was time for him to leave but he hesitated a moment.

"Doctor, a moment?” Joseph could feel blood trying to drip from his nose and he wiped at it gingerly to spare himself the humiliation of sniffling. The doctor looked at him but didn’t seem patient enough to answer the sorts of questions he wanted to ask. He adjusted his glasses gingerly. “I didn’t get a good look at the other men involved. I would like to know who they are.”

The woman was shaking her head before Joseph had finished speaking and he turned to follow her when she walked to the door.

“You, of all people, should know that I’m not supposed to discuss other patients,” she said and Joseph stopped at a safe distance when she stood near the door to call for the guard outside.

“Their names shouldn’t be strictly covered under doctor-patient confidentiality and I won’t ask for the name of the assailant, if that makes you more comfortable. I’m sure that won’t be difficult to discern anyway,” Joseph said and eyed officer Connelly who appeared in the doorway. Looked like his shift wasn’t over yet.

“I’m more interested in the other man, the one that helped me.”

The doctor sighed and for a moment it looked as though Joseph’s good name wouldn’t be strong enough to win him the information he wanted.

“I don’t see how releasing the name of someone who _helped_ me could be harmful in this circumstance,” he insisted and the doctor tossed her hands up as if the whole issue didn’t actually matter to her. Officer Connelly fidgeted impatiently.

“Even just part of his number would be sufficient--”

“Quit fucking around and lets get going. If you’re late for roll call _I’m_ the one that has to answer for it, even if it’s just you, Oda.” Connelly stepped into the room and Joseph could anticipate the pain that stubbornness would cause him if he insisted any more than he already had. He nodded in understanding but waited a moment longer to stare at the doctor expectantly. The woman must have found Joseph’s confidence amusing because she cracked a smile at his persistence and shrugged.

“Castellanos,” she said and looked pointedly at Connelly who had stepped closer to grab Joseph by the arm. Her expression was warning enough that Joseph was certain the officer would be forgetting this whole conversation before he left the room if he knew what was good for him.

“Castellanos...a surname?” Joseph tested the name, tried to pick his shaken brain for any recollection of it but came up with nothing. The doctor just shook her head and turned away, having already dismissed the conversation and moved on. Connelly’s grip grew tighter on Joseph’s arm and he tried not to flinch at the pain it caused.

“Alright, alright, lets go.” Connelly groaned impatiently and gave Joseph's arm a tug.

Joseph hissed, felt hot lances of pain shoot up his arm and crackle behind his eyes, and was surprised to feel Connelly reach out to help him when he stumbled. “Seriously, Oda?” He sighed at the inconvenience of it all but didn’t pull at Joseph again. Instead his grip seemed more supportive than demanding and Joseph had to admit that he appreciated it.

“Sorry, Connelly, I’m going.”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t keel over in the hall, okay? My shift’s almost over and I don’t want to have to stay overtime to fill out paperwork,” Connelly said and followed Joseph out of the room, shutting the heavy door behind them. Joseph walked most of the way back to his cellblock with Connelly’s hand on his arm but was grateful that he let go when they crossed the threshold into Joseph's assigned "pod".

The clamor of men's voices and rattling doors was far more abrasive than usual and for a moment the pain in Joseph's head was enough to make him dizzy. Taking the stairs to the upper floor made his vision blur but he refused to let it show.

Joseph had never been in this position before, or at least not for the past three years he'd been incarcerated. His first year had been rough, sure, but he'd long since established his place in the inmate "community" so that he wasn't often threatened with harm. He'd earned respect and respect was power, but now, walking slowly down the landing towards his cell in the back, he could feel the stares of his block mates. Joseph felt vulnerable. He'd shared this same cell block with most of these hundred or so men for years, had learned their boundaries and erected his own, but allowing them to see him like this was a severe tactical error. They fed on weakness and Joseph feared that even his reputation wouldn't be able to help him now. An attorney was useful to some, respected by others, and seen as a general asset to their community, but one’s reputation only went so far. When he stopped at his cell and saw the look on his neighbor's face, he knew he was in trouble.

Joseph stepped inside as soon as the door rattled open with a loud blare from the automated locks. His cell was mostly empty save for a few books he had been allowed to keep and for a moment Joseph missed his old cell mate. The old man had been gone for two months now and Joseph had enjoyed the solitude for a while, but these were different circumstances.

"Hey," Connelly spoke up and Joseph turned back to look at him standing just outside the door. He looked as though he were struggling not to show how concerned he was but Joseph couldn't be sure. “Be careful out there,” Connelly lowered his voice so Joseph had to strain to hear him and stepped back before Joseph could grasp what he had said.  Any comment Joseph might have made was deterred by the slamming of his cell door and with the sound of Connelly’s footsteps growing distant and faint Joseph was left in the cramped image of solitude that his cell provided.

“Careful…” Joseph scoffed at the very concept. He could feel blood start to drip from his nose again but didn’t move to wipe it away until it reached his lips. What did being careful have to do with anything? He was always careful, always aware, watching, remembering--it wasn’t a matter of being careful. What had happened to him had nothing to do with being cautious, it--like so many other things--was all about luck. And Joseph had never been particularly lucky. Then again, maybe he was.

“Castellanos.” He whispered the name into the near-silence of his room and ignored the general noise of the other inmates and the guards circling around taking roll in favor of absorbing every syllable. It was new to him, perhaps from another block? More likely a new arrival and he didn’t keep up on every new man on this block or any other. He knew a few choice individuals that might be able to get him what he was looking for but the deeply rooted ache in his body told him to progress with care. He’d stick local and low-key, he decided, and knew exactly who he wanted. Hopefully old man Jimenez didn’t mind a little extra company with his breakfast.


End file.
